


The Sultan and The Storyteller

by MagnoliaMuse



Series: Nights in the the Oasis of Light [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11555430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnoliaMuse/pseuds/MagnoliaMuse
Summary: Have you heard of the Sultanate of the Oasis of Light? The Sultan marries any suitor who asks but kills any who do not satisfy her. So far none have survived the night with her. So will that nomad from the east stand a chance?A retelling of Scheherazade





	1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time, in a land once home to the empires of Babylon and Sumeria was a Sultanate that stood unique from its neighbors. Its original name has been lost to history but it became known as the Oasis of Light, in homage to its most influencing Sultan. Like often happens, When the previous Sultan passed a struggle for power ensued. He had not named any of his sons as his successor and the child who would rise from this struggle for power was not the one any expected- for of the Sultan’s nine children, his only daughter would claim his title.  


She was the daughter of a woman from the Bahmani Sultanate know as Nur given as a gift to the late Sultan’s harem. She was unique to many of the women in the Sultan’s harem as she was darker skinned with features typical of the area she hailed from and not the pale softer features of the other women. But what she lacked in looks (some said) she made up for in dance. Any who wondered as to why she was given soon realized it the moment she started dancing. And she passed those skills onto her daughter, who learned the dances of her mother’s land along with the dances of the place they now inhabited.  


Being the Sultan’s only daughter, in may ways she was overlooked. But it was in that anonymity that she thrived. Her mother was not just a dancer, she was a sorceress who could use her dance to bend the light around her into any shape or form she needed. For years her mother taught her all she knew in secret. And then her father the Sultan died and her brothers looked at each other with suspicion, knowing that one day soon all but one would be gone from this world.  
Three of her brother’s died in military campaigns, one was stabbed by bandit outside the city. Two fled the city, the first was found a week later in a now tainted well and the other at the bottom of a ravine in the mountains bordering the Sultanate. The seventh was poisoned. And so stood the last brother, the apparent victor of the fratricide. His ascension was arranged.  


On that day, the court and all visiting officials gathered in the wide opulent throne room. He emerged and made his way to the throne, music guiding his procession. His sister stood near the end of his path standing with her mother and the other ladies in the back of the room on the left hand side of the throne She silently stepped away from the women walking perpendicular to her brother and stepped in his path, blocking him as he approached. He stopped to avoid colliding with her and whispers flurried throughout the room.  


Several officials moved to apprehend her but then she took a step forward leaning towards her brother. She placed her hand over his heart and kissed his cheek before drawing away. As she did blue light was seen gathering in her hand, tightening and focusing before she raised her other hand. The ball of blue light balanced between them until she pushed it away from her towards him. He screamed as it touched his chest moving through him, burning a hole through his center. The crowd was silent as the eighth son fell leaving only the Sultan’s daughter. No one moved, the music had stopped. And the Sultan’s daughter spoke.  


“As the only surviving child of the late sultan I, Satya, hereby claim his title.” Her voice was clipped. She turned, finishing her brother’s path to the throne and conjured a veil of light around her, the ceremony continuing after her brother’s body was moved. She became Sultan at fifteen.  


Despite her violent ascension many soon came to love their new Sultan, she was honest and fair. She pulled away from some of their more hopeless military campaigns and acted as voice of reason to city officials planning new taxes. Her magic even became seen as more of a force of life than death, as she would occasionally be seen weaving objects of good into being.  


One day as her palanquin was being carried through the city on her way to one of the temples the axle on a wagon broke, blocking the way. She emerged from the palanquin and made her way toward the wagon. Its owner fell to his knees with hurried apologies. She knelt down catching his chin to lift him up and one of her escort moved him to the side. She danced, blue light forming and taking shape between her hand in the shape of the broken piece. Again the owner fell to his knees this time thanking the Sultan for her kindness and she again lifted him up before heading back to her palanquin. His cart was quickly fixed and they were on their way.  


Year’s passed and the Sultan became troubled, she began to feel her own mortality. Her mother had gotten sick and passed away. She mourned for her and laid her to rest in the same temple where her own remains would one day sit. She knew she would eventually die herself and unlike her father and all the Sultans before her, she did not have the luxury of many wives to ensure many children. She would likely only be able to take one husband and may only have one child grow to adulthood. And so she formed an idea. She sent out her notice of her intent to marry.  


“But who?” Came the resounding cry from her court and people alike.  


“The first man to ask me,” She responded, “But be warned,” She added, “any man who fails to satisfy me will meet the same fate as my brothers.”  


Despite her threat men swarmed at the offer. A list was made. The first man was brought to her, and they were married in the temple built for her mother. They returned to the palace to share a meal before retiring to Satya’s rooms. The groom was escorted in first and Satya informed her guards that if she called for them they should enter immediately. She entered the room and not an hour had passed before she called out and her guard entered to see the new groom lying dead and Satya resting on a couch across from him.  


When asked what had happened she simply said “He did not satisfy me.” The next man on the list was consulted and he too accepted the proposal. He too was dead before the sun rose.  


Several more men accepted the offer without much hesitation, all of whom met the same fate.  


As time passed more and more men hesitated to take the Sultan’s offer of marriage but there were always a few willing as news of her offer filtered throughout the neighboring lands: Princes with no chance of ever gaining their own thrones, merchant’s sons who sought her nation's wealth, men from all kinds of backgrounds - and they all met the same fate. It came to be that any man brought before the Sultan was asked, and very few accepted.  


It was amidst these rumors that a nomad came to the Oasis of Light. He came from the east and during his travels he had heard the stories about the Sultan of the Oasis of Light. He arrived at the east gate of the city with all his possessions in a bag on his back. His body was covered in silver and brass colored armor. Two swords rested sheathed on his back. A blue sash was tied around his waist and his head was wrapped in a wide, light colored scarf with brass colored charms woven into it. Even his eyes were covered to protect them from the sun and dust. He had been acting as a bodyguard for a nomadic tribe and had not been in a city this size in over three months. He was stopped at the gate, which he found typical, the guard pulling him aside to question him. The guard asked him to remove his scarf and he obliged. His face was deeply scarred from a past battle. The guard asked for his name  


“Genji” He answered simply  


The guard asked him about where he was from as his accent was strange.  


“A land far to the east and over the sea.”  


The guard asked him what business he had in Oasis.  


“None specifically, I am a nomad traveling the world.”  


The guard asked him if he was wed.  


“No,” the nomad replied.  


The guard nodded and said he could replace his scarf and he did. He felt more comfortable with his face hidden even if he did not mind his scars.  


Instead of releasing him the guard asked Genji to follow him and the nomad agreed, knowing he’d gotten out of tighter spots before. At least he thought he had - and then the guard lead him to the Sultan’s palace. They entered the building and he was lead to the quieter parts of the palace and into a garden. The guards left him, closing the large door behind him. The nomad took a moment to evaluate his surroundings. Ivy climbed the walls which looked a little high for even him to scale however there was a balcony part way up and a few windows. If he needed to, he would not be trapped here. A fountain bubbled in the center of the garden and he took a moment to sit and listen to the babbling water.  


“So how do you like the city so far?” a voice asked he looked up to see a woman now standing at the balcony. He stood.  


“I have not seen much other than the guard post and this palace.” He paused for a moment, “But the palace is beautiful.”  


He walked to the other side of the garden to try and get a better look at the woman. He saw her face was covered from her cheekbones up in a magnificent gold winged metal crown with a lotus in gold where her eyes would be. A thin green veil hung down from it around her shoulders. He could see she was wearing in a beautiful dress that seemed to be made of gold and have light itself woven into it.  


“What do you know of Oasis?” She asked keeping him from his observations.  


“Not much, before the current Sultan's ascension it was known as the Sultanate of S---, the main export is cloth and the current Sultan has been ruling for thirteen years.”  


“What else do you know of the Sultan?”  


He looked up at her smiling even though he knew she couldn't see his face.  


“I know that you are loved and considered just. You wear that crown to emphasis the latter.”  


“And do you know why you are here?” She asked  


“I assume it is because you have found out my background,” he lied  


“And what would that be?” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice, he bowed low.  


“I am Shimada Genji, son of Shimada Sojiro Lord of Hanamura.”  


“Hm, I am not familiar with either name but thank you for informing me.”  


“If that is not the reason may I ask why you’ve brought me here?” Genji asked feigning ignorance.  


“I was going to extend an offer of marriage to you?”  


“And if I accept?”  


“Have you not heard the stories?”  


“I have.”  


“Then you know the answer,”  


“But what if I do survive until the morning?”  


“The challenge is not to survive until morning, the challenge is to satisfy me.”  


“Then Sultan, I will agree on one condition,”  


“And what condition is that?”  


“I will not remove my scarf in your presence.”  


“Oh?” she said raising an eyebrow, under the crown and Genji heard the implication in her voice.  


“Very well nomad,” Satya said, “Come, they are waiting for us.”  


Like with every other suitor, brave (or stupid) enough to accept the Sultan’s offer, the two traveled to the temple to take vows and they then traveled back to the palace. Genji requested to eat alone, away from the Sultan's eyes and she allowed it. After they had eaten, she had one of the guards escort him to her personal bath knowing it was the most private area in the palace. She had a maid take away his clothes to be washed- his swords and armor having been removed before dinner. She left him a new scarf, this one a dark blue, and a robe. He kept his gloves. When he was done he requested his sash but since that too was being washed a similar orange one was given to him. He tied it around his waist holding the robe closer to his body and he was then escorted to the Sultan’s rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

She was leaning on the balcony, she had changed into a simple blue gown  her elaborate crown replaced by a simpler one. A blue crystal was resting on her forehead and a light blue veil fluttering around her shoulders. He was unsure what to do so he stood awkwardly, waiting.

“You said you had not seen the city.” Her voice ringing out across the room. She turned to look at him.

“No, not really,” he confirmed. She gestured for him to come to the balcony and he did. He approached slowly and the city came into view, sprawling and chaotic below them.

“It is beautiful,” he said. Light flickered in side of homes and on rooftops. Along the streets blue lights fluttered in a different rhythm than flames.

“What is that blue light?” he risked asking

“I made them,” the Sultan said, “to help light be people's way at night, they last a few months after which I must renew them. Since I created them, crime at night has been greatly reduced?”

He gave a small chuckle.

“What?” The Sultan asked.

“I would like to ask,” he started, “why did you set about this endeavor. You are known as being logical and rational and this idea seems far from that.”   

She did not answer his question and instead took his hand.

“Come sit with me,” she said pulling him towards a couch. They sat in silence for a moment before the nomad broke it.

“Would you like to hear a story Sultan?” His heart was pounding in his chest and he worked hard to keep his voice from wavering.

“What story would you tell me nomad?”

“I know many stories, what kind of story would you like to hear?” Genji paused for a moment before continuing.

“When I first heard the story of the Sultan of the Oasis of Light it reminded me of a tale my mother told me when I was very young. Of the bamboo cutter’s daughter.”

“Tell me,” Satya said nestling into the couch.

“Once there was an old man and old woman who on the edge of town. They were largely happy but they had always wanted a child. One day the old man left like he always did to go cut down bamboo in the forest for he and the old woman use it to make many things to sell.

This day however was different for as he cut the bamboo he noticed one that seemed to glow with light.  He approached and saw a tiny form within the bamboo like that of a person and so he cut above it carefully and out of the bamboo came a tiny girl. He carried her home cupped safely in his hands to show her to the old woman. They knew that the heavens had sent them this child and so they vowed care for her and raise her.

The next day as the bamboo cutter went out to cut bamboo, thinking of his new daughter waiting at home. Again he saw a strange glowing bamboo and as he cut into it gold poured from it, and so this happened two more times before he returned home. From that day on they were wealthy. Their daughter grew more and more and not half a year had passed before she was as big as any other girl. She grew to adulthood and a beautiful home was built for her and she was given beautiful kimono.

She was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen and so she was given the name Takeno Kaguya Hime: Princess Kaguya of the Slender Bamboo. They had a celebration of her naming and all who laid eyes on her agreed she was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. Her reputation spread and five suitors came to ask for her hand…”

He continued his tale of the five suitors who sought her hand. And the challenges she set to each of them. As he finished speaking of the challenges the Sultan eyes fell closed and she slumped against the Nomad fast asleep. The room was lit only by a single lamp set on the table beside him. He was able reach it without waking the Sultan and extinguished it, plunging the room into darkness.

He woke and felt a spike of panic run through his center as the Sultan was no longer there and he wondered if he too would die. The door opened to the chamber and he scrambled to his feet. The Sultan entered she she was wearing the same simple headdress as before.

“Good Morning,” she said with a smile to the nomad. “Did you sleep alright? My apologies, I did not plan on passing the whole night on the couch.”

“I am alright Sultan,” Genji said.

“Good, I will have breakfast brought in for you, feel free to wander the palace.” She turned to leave.

“Sultan,” the nomad called and she stopped.

“Why have you spared me?”

“I want to know the end of the story of the Princess of the Slender Bamboo,” she said before leaving the room.

The day passed with the Nomad mostly hiding in the Sultan’s private rooms. Any time he attempted to leave he was assaulted by whispers of all he passed. No man had survived to the morning and they were all curious about him. When night came the Sultan lead him to a pile of cushions more comfortable than the couch and he finished the story of the Princess of the Slender Bamboo.

“It is a pretty story,” she said,” but the Princess has very little backbone, tell me a story of someone with more confidence.”

And so he started the story of Momotaro, the boy born from a peach.

“What is it with your land and children born from plants?” she asked cutting him off.

“We are a land of farmers, our fortunes are made and lost on the whim of the land,” he said before going back to his story.

This time he watched as the Sultan’s eyes began to droop. She blinked slowly, the space between each opening of her closed eyes growing long and longer until she leaned more fully against his chest and fell into an easy sleep. Again Genji extinguished the lamp resting nearby and watched the Sultan Satya sleeping under the starlight.

On the third night he finished the story of Momotaro and so to start another he asked her what kind of story she’d like to hear.

“Something short,” she answered and Genji scoffed.

“There are no short stories,” he replied.

“Of course there are, tell me one,” Satya said. The third night she’d lead him to the bed and they now rested there, the Sultan lying down close beside him.

“Alright,” he said, “Once there were two brothers from Hanamura. The elder killed the younger. But he didn’t die. The end” he argued with no anger in his voice.

“Wait a minute, tell me more,” the Sultan Satya said sitting up and looking down at the still masked Genji.

“I thought you wanted a short story?”

“Please,” her golden eyes twinkled in curiosity.

“Alright lay, back down and I will tell you.”

She did nestling closer her head on his arm.

“Once there were two brothers from Hanamura, as children they were closer than any friends could be. They spent their days learning and playing together. At night their mother would tell them stories of princes and princesses and heros and warriors. As with all little children they did not worry about the things adults worried about. They played their games of samurai and ninja, hero and villain. They imagined they were great hunters chasing rare beasts they knew through their mother’s stories and oni (trolls).

But they grew like all children do and they grew apart. The elder brother was the heir to his family's estate and legacy and because of this pressure he grew further and further away from his brother, who having lost his best friend, rebelled. He fought against his family's wishes choosing to instead to hide in the village most of the day making friends with the other children. When he was old enough to drink his father would give him a few coins to try and win his favor but it did not work.

The older brother began to resent his younger brother seeing him as frivolous and uncaring. That did little to rebuild their relationship. And their father’s advisors, elders of the clan, also viewed the younger brother as disrespecting the family. But his father defended his youngest son, giving him  the nickname “sparrow”  and continued funding his rebellion hoping one day his son would realize his mistake.

Years passed like this with the father defending and protecting his youngest son.” He took a moment to pause there looking down at Satya.  She had not moved but he could see her blinking slowly still because of the movement of her long dark lashes.

“But then their father fell sick and he died. And fear sank into the younger son’s heart now that his protector was gone. Not sure what to do he took a chance and went to his brother for help. But he found no sympathy, his brother, under the guidance of his father’s advisors, moved to kill his little brother, wounding him near fatally. It was in the end, ironically,  his family's legacy is what ultimately saved his life.”

“What happened to the sparrow after that?” Satya asked her voice heavy with sleep.

“I will tell you tomorrow night.” Genji said brushing her hair away from her neck.

She hummed in acceptance before drifting away into sleep.

The next day the Nomad’s clothing and armor was returned to him. At his request he was escorted to the baths and left in solitude.

He undressed carefully folding the scarf that had been hiding his face and set it aside before he washed himself, and eased into the warm water. The smell of fresh flowers reached him. It was good to be out from under the warm layers of the scarf. It was good to be able to see the world with his own eyes and feel the breeze on his face.

“Tell me,” Genji froze as Satya’s voice drifted to him from behind a room divider. “If I were to leave my place and look upon you what would I see? What man have I married?”

“Sultan, you should not look to skip ahead in the story, and though I am no comparison in this moment to the God Cupid please honor my request and do not look upon me.”

“Ah, this is a story I know, Cupid and Psyche. The princess who in her curiosity almost lost her lover. Do not worry, I will honor our bargain. I will not look upon your face until you are ready.”

“Thank you Sultan,” he said. He heard her stand and leave the room.

When he was done he changed back into his own clothes and spent the rest of the day meditating in the garden.  That night they continued the story of the two brothers of Hanamura.

“What was it about his family's legacy that saved the younger brother?” the Sultan asked.

“The family are the descendants of dragons made mortal and because of this the dragons still protect the family. Both brothers had guardian dragon spirits to help them and lend them strength. It was because of his dragon that the younger brother survived.”

“Dragons, that seems fanciful.”

“Says the sorceress Sultan who killed her own brothers by bending light to her will.

“I did not kill my brothers,” she said quietly. “I only killed the last. But he was a cruel man. How did he know these dragons truly protected him?”

“She manifested as his brother’s dragons attacked and threw herself in the attacking dragon’s path to shield his body although she was no match for the twin dragons and the sparrow suffered near fatal wounds. And once he was struck down she used her power to lift him and carry him to a temple. The monks there healed his wounds and cared for him but they could not heal the wounds in his heart.

He was angry, at his brother at his family. And once he was well enough he destroyed the clan. His brother had fled though after nearly killing his brother and was spared from his wrath.

A monk from a temple far from his land visited and saw the injured sparrow and offered to take him away from this place of pain. Not knowing what else to do he accepted. He traveled with the monk as they wandered the land before heading back to his monastery. And slowly he began to heal. His anger was replaced by wonderment at humanity and he realized how big the world was. He decided he wanted to see it so with his master’s blessing he left the temple and began his travels.”

“What happened to the Sparrow after that?”

“I don’t know, that is the end of the story. Would you like to here another one Sultan?”

“No,” she said pulling herself into his lap and resting her head against his chest. She could hear his heart quicken fluttering quickly like a sparrow’s wings.

“I am satisfied.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [doctorcaseyholmes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorcaseyholmes/pseuds/doctorcaseyholmes) for being my beta MRL


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work was suppose to be only two chapters but I like Psyche needed the face reveal. XD  
> Proofread by me only.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed!

Do you remember the tale of the Sultan of the Oasis of Light?  How the masked nomad won her heart with stories for far away places. For four nights he was brought to her room and for four nights all in the palace waited for the Sultan to call her guards to her room; to remove the body. But the call never came and on the fourth morning when the Sultan emerged from her rooms. Her guards again braced themselves for that order. But the Sultan only smiled slightly pulling her hair over her right shoulder before speaking, “Good morning,” she said “My husband would like to spar today would you please show him where the training areas are.”

“Yes Sultan,” they answered together before the younger and more naive of the two spoke up, “Sultan,” She raised an eyebrow at him; “ are you, is he,” He waived under her gaze even though he was considerably taller than her. His cheeks darkened as he stuttered, “ is he staying?” He asked finally. Flinching away at his own question before she could even answer. That little smile returned and she hummed in consideration, “it would appear so,” she said adjusting her shawl and starting down the hallway towards the bath.

After that a routine fell into place as the Sultan integrated the storyteller into the palace’s life. He quickly proved his skill in both armed and unarmed combat and began assisting in training.  He was given his own room although he rarely used it. He found it was nice to have however. Months passed but he had still not unmasked himself in front of the Sultan. His room was the only place he was unveiled besides the bath. If the Sultan was upset by this she had not said anything instead she had honored her word and had not pressed it. She was tempted though.

Some nights she would not be able to sleep or would wake in the middle of the night and the nomad would be asleep, she could tell by his calm even breathing.  She would conjure a small blue light to see and she would raise her hand to his veil. Genji now only rarely wore the many layered scarves with the Satya in favor of a lighter fabric like the ones some women in the Sultanate wore. It would be so easy to lift it and see his face beneath. Her fingers traced the shape of his nose and his cheekbones but she resisted the temptation. She always withdrew her hand as it flitted over the hem of the veil not wanting to betray his trust. Some nights it had been almost impossible.  She’d woken from those night frustrated at herself and tired.  If the nomad had noticed he didn't say anything. And for that Satya was grateful.

One night Genji had not joined her for dinner instead choosing to join some advisors. It let the other’s in the palace get to know him without her admittedly intense personality and it helped quell some of the whispers and rumors about the nomad if they had a chance to speak with him. So after an uneventful dinner, Satya returned to her room she didn't expect to see the nomad already there. He’d dampened the blue lanterns that illuminated the room at night. And she could see him leaning against the frame that lead out to the balcony a slight breeze was blowing the curtains. He turned when the door opened and gave a little bow, “Sultan” he said. He was wearing the blue scarf and orange sash she’d given him his second day here.

“I thought you were having dinner with the advisors tonight?” She asked not able to hide her amusement.

“My apologies Sultan, I had something more important to do tonight.”

“Really? What could be more important?” She asked with feigned interest.

She crossed to room to meet him and he took her hand.

“Do you remember what I said the second day in the bath?”

“ Yes, you said ‘ though I am no comparison, in this moment, to the God Cupid please honor my request and do not look upon me’.”

“And I promised to do as Psyche could not and wait.” She said then added, “ I admit I nearly broke that promise.”

“I know,” he said she could hear him smiling. “I can be a very light sleeper Sultan.”

Satya felt herself blush.

“You kept your promise, though.” He said, “ And now I will keep mine.” He pulled his hands away removing his gloves first. She took his hands relishing in the feeling of his bare skin against her’s. They were deeply scarred the healed skin raised and unnaturally smooth. She raised one of his hands and kissed the knuckles. Before moving her hands up to remove the eye covering.

“Would you like to hear a story?” he asked gently.

“Yes,” She said quietly seeing his eyes for the first time. There was still enough light in the room to see their dark brown color. She held his gaze, feeling her cheeks darken again before he looked away, long eyelashes hiding his eyes.

“After the Sparrow’s injuries healed he was hurt, so hurt that the only thing he could do to manage his pain was to be angry,  he was angry at his brother. And he was angry at the people he’d once considered his family. His rescuers tried to help but nothing could fix that pain.  He saw the way they’d glance at him when they thought he couldn't see. He could see the pity in their eyes and that angered him above all else. So he lashed out, the only way he knew how: through violence.He began to unravel his family. He cut through his former friends like they were paper. His clan, thinking he had been killed, thought he had returned as a vengeful spirit to annihilate them. He wore the mask of Hannya and with every death, he fell a little closer to the spirit’s madness.”

He looked up to meet her eyes again. She’d found the edge of the scarf but had stopped to listen. She slowly began to unwind it.

“As I said before eventually a monk visited. He had heard stories of this vengeful spirit and offered to help put it to rest. He did not expect a man but that was what he found. He was happy though, a man could be saved, and spirit was already lost . And the sparrow, well, he found someone who could beat him in a fight.”

“He took the sparrow far away from that place that had caused him so much pain and slowly the sparrow began to return and the spirit faded. The mask was discarded but the sparrow had grown use to hiding and the monk, to not cause him any more stress gave him a beautiful cream scarf and showed him how to tie it. He found freedom with it. And the sparrow rested, giving way to the nomad.”

The scarf fell away but Genji was standing in such a way that his face was still hidden in shadow, Satya moved to conjure a light but he caught her hand continuing his tale.

“The nomad eventually left the monk, wanting to see what way he could make for himself. He traveled farther than he knew the world even reached. Meeting people unlike any he’d ever know. He found places with so much color he wondered if they’d stolen it for the rest of the world. But his travels distracted him from the fact that he was growing used to hiding behind the mask.And when he eventually reached the lands of a Sultan unlike any known.He was brought before her. He saw that she was not just a Sultan, she was a goddess given human form. And he became afraid, afraid to reveal the face once nearly lost to a vengeful spirit to one who was touched by divinity.”

She brought her hand and brushed it over his cheekbone. This time there was not fabric between the two.

“He was scared, she would regret her decision--”

She shushed him her finger resting on his lips.

“May I raise the light, I want to see you.” She said quietly.

Silence fell and even the breeze seemed to stop and Satya held her breath waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” He whispered. Satya leaned forward resting her forehead against his her hands twisted gracefully before she took his. The lights slowly raised and she pulled away her heart pounding.

She raised her eyes, struck silent. She looked at the nomad’s face. Something flickered across it as her eye’s mapped his scars and she saw the tension melt from his body. She realized know she was smiling. He was scarred and like his hands large patches of his skin showed where he’d once been burned. Some of his hair had been lost to the scarring too but the rest was wild from being trapped under the scarf.

“Thank you,” She said still smiling. Her hands found their way to his hair and his wrapped around her waist. He tucked his head into the crook of her neck. 

"You don't ever need to worry," she said, " I want to know the end to our story."

They stood there for a moment; the Sultan and the Nomad, the Sultan and the Storyteller. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it I swear, do I want to write a continuation where Genji runs off to find Hanzo and Satya has to leave her Sultanate to chase after him like the Psyche? No of course not.  
> Also this is the story of Hannya:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hannya  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first finished Overwatch fiction inspired by Symmetra's newest skin and of my favorite fairy tales. The second and final chapter is done so it will be up soon. I hope you enjoyed. <3 <3<3 BTW this is terrifying XD.
> 
> Thank you to [doctorcaseyholmes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorcaseyholmes/pseuds/doctorcaseyholmes) (who doesn't even go here) for being my beta MRL


End file.
